


Violin's Dream

by Blue_The_Huntress



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Action & Romance, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-08-26 18:36:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16686784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_The_Huntress/pseuds/Blue_The_Huntress
Summary: Recently moved in next to a hot guy. Barely any free time with band troubles, a troublesome ex, and visits to a psychiatrist, but you attempt to date him anyway.Yeah, because that won't cause any more trouble than you already have.





	1. Howdy Neighbor!

**"What is that sound?"**

The uneven, rhythmic tapping from across the hall didn't go unnoticed by the journalist or his symbiotic partner. If he was honest, he wasn't exactly curious enough to go find out what the cause was, as he had tuned it out hours ago. But for the past half an hour, Venom had been pestering him about it, and he couldn't get the sound out of his head. 

"For the last time, I don't know." He replies. "It's probably just a new neighbor or something since you scared off the last one." 

**"Why don't we go see what it is?"**

"Because I don't care." 

**"But I'm bored waiting for you to finish and that sound is really beginning to bother us."**

Eddie sighs. He gets it; he  _ really _ does. But he has a deadline for his article and he wants to have a couple days to read over it before he submits it. Not to mention, now that his "friend" pointed it out, it's been drumming at the back of his mind. It's like a headache that throbs to the beat of loud music, but on a much lesser scale. 

With a roll of his eyes, the journalist stands from his desk and makes his way over to the apartment. 

**"I knew you'd give in eventually."**

"I'm only doing this to shut you up." He knocks.

**"Ouch. That's hurtful, Eddie."**

"Don't lie." 

They're both silenced by the beautiful, but exhausted looking female before them. She's about Eddie's age, maybe an inch shorter than him and (pale/fair/caramel/dark)-skinned. She had (color) hair, which has been braided into a tight bun and wide, bright (color) eyes. There looks to be a weight on her shoulders and she's leaning slightly against the apartment door like she's tired. In a pair of ripped, white-washed blue jeans that are decorated in fresh and dried glue and paint of different colors and a black tank top, it seems like she's been working. Eddie can see the strap of her blue bra, which was sliding down her right arm. He also notices the thin layer of sweat that coats her exposed skin. 

"Oh, hey." She greets with a tired smile, pulling up her bra strap. 

**_"Delicious."_ **

A peek behind her reveals a mostly empty living room, but the walls are all coated in black, geometric foam. All of what they can see, anyway. 

"Hey." He repeats. "I'm guessing you're the new neighbor?" 

**"No shit."**

She chuckles; it's a sound that's like music to Eddie's ears. "You guessed right." She answers. "And I'll assume you're the neighbor from across the hall?" At Eddie's surprised expression, she continues, "The last tenant informed me that you're sensitive to sound. I'm not surprised that you heard me." 

"What exactly are you doing?" 

At this, her smile broadens. "I'm setting up acoustic foam. It helps to dampen sounds." 

Venom is curious, that much Eddie can tell and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't. "Do you play?" 

"Of course." A passionate light sparkles in her eyes and she seems to become much more energized at the question. "I actually play the violin." She steps a little farther outside, exposing herself some more. "When I heard that you had a problem with sound, I thought I should come prepared."

**"She is thinking of us."**

"That's nice of you." 

She chuckles again, rubbing her left eye. "I know how it is to live by noisy neighbors, so I try to offer at least some sort of sound dampener. I made sure to ask the landlord if it was okay, too." 

Eddie finds himself smiling. "Eddie." He gives her his name, holding his hand out to her. 

She shakes it. "(Name)." 

He takes a quick look around the apartment from where he's standing. "Well, I'm sorry to bother you." He says. 

"I don't mind." She replies. "In fact, I'm glad you did. I tend to get too focused on a project. I should probably wait until tomorrow to finish up." She looks back into her apartment, checking her work. 

"I'll leave you to it." He says, stepping back to head toward his apartment. "Be seeing you around, I suppose." 

"Oh, actually-!" She quickly turns back around, catching their attention again. "Could you do me a  _ huge _ favor?" 

**"She'll have to owe us."**

"Depends." 

Her smile is shy, almost hesitant. "Listen for my violin tomorrow?" She asks. "I'm planning on playing a test run after I get all of this foam up and I want to make sure that it does its job." 

"That won't be a problem." 

It broadens at his words. "Thank you so much. I'll see you tomorrow." 

Before they can respond, she disappears into her apartment with only a soft 'click' left behind. 

***

Eddie finished his draft maybe an hour or two ago. He finds himself unable to sleep as his symbiotic "friend" makes perverse comments about their new neighbor, most of which involve him 'eating' her in the lewd, figurative way. 

"Will you shut up?" 

**"You know you want to, Eddie."**

"That's not the point! We literally just met her!" 

**"Anne didn't work out. It's about time we found someone else."**

"You need to slow down," Eddie says. "Why don't you go do your thing and we'll talk about this tomorrow?" 

**"Whatever you say."**

***

"You know what? You all honestly need to let me know of gigs ahead of time! I'm sick and tired of you all informing me the day before things happen! How am I supposed to set up my new apartment  _ and _ practice all the songs we're performing tomorrow on the same day?!" 

"We were only informed yesterday!" Your band's singer Kris informed you. "And you already told us that you were turning off your phone so you wouldn't get distracted! We couldn't exactly tell you!" 

"My apartment is a five-minute drive from your place! You couldn't come to inform me?!" 

The three beep tone informed you that she hung up. Exasperated, you toss your phone onto the floor returning to your task of sticking the foam padding to your walls. 

_ 'I love this job, but these deadlines are killing me. "Practice these songs for tomorrow. Write your part of the songs by next week." I'm not sure if I can handle the stress.'  _

Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Place. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Repeat. Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Place. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Repeat. 

The constant beat and monotony of your self-prescribed work faded into the background as your mind worked to write the violin parts for the new songs the band's writing. Adding up the separate parts that your partners got done before trying to figure out where to fit your violin and what it mingled well with. 

Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Place. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Repeat. 

_ The Violin's Dream. _ Surprising that you're the band's leader and you're constantly ordered to do things because everyone else took it upon themselves to do everything.

Whenever you try to get involved, you're overshadowed as if you're  _ not _ the most important member of the band. You're lucky that you're paid the slight increase because you name the albums and songs.

Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Place. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Repeat. 

You're not stuck up. You formed the band, you play the most important part - hence the band's name, and you give titles all albums and songs. Also, who talks to the band's talent manager when you're booking appearances, signings, and studio appointments? 

And yet, you're still the one who learns everything last.

Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Peel, stick. Place. Tap, tap. 

_ Knock, knock, knock. _

Tap, tap. You place your next piece of foam onto the floor and make your way over to your door. 

Through the peephole, you see your neighbor, Eddie. You’re surprised that he’s up so early. It’s only seven in the morning. 

“Hey, Eddie.” 

His clothes make him look like he’s barely opened his eyes. His dark hair is a mess and he’s wearing rumpled sweats with a hastily tied robe over his shoulders. However, his face says that he’s slept well and wide awake now. 

You crack a smile at the sight of the prepared microwave breakfasts in his hands. “And breakfast, it looks like?” 

He gives you a light chuckle in response. “W-. I heard you working already and wasn’t sure if you’d eaten yet.” 

As if on command, the rumbling of your stomach alert him before you can say a word. His grin broadens. 

“Haha,” You place your hands on your stomach. “I’ve been too focused on finishing up.” You take a look around your barely furnished apartment before shrugging and turning back toward him. “I don’t have a whole lot except some cutlery and some couch pillows to sit on if you wanna come inside?” 

“I don’t mind.” He steps inside as you step away. With a smile, you close the door behind him. 

The only thing he saw inside the apartment was the wood flooring and the walls covered in black foam. The foam only covers the living room walls all the way around until it gets to the halfway point of the wall the door in on. 

“Allow me to get the pillows so we can sit.” 

There’s also an excessive amount of small Velcro squares and white adhesive peels covering the edges of the floor. 

His eyes roamed over you as you make your way out from another room. He watches the sway of your hips, the way the two fluffy pillows squish against your body and accent your curves. Today, you’re in a black tube top and some denim shorts cut off at the knees. The top is short enough to reveal your belly button. It’s also slightly too tight, as it’s slipped down to reveal the blue lace trim of your bra. You apparently don’t notice it or don’t care as you smile gently, handing him one of the throw pillows. 

“I know it’s not much, but the moving truck hasn’t arrived yet.” You tell him. 

Eddie takes the pillow under one of his arms, handing you one of the meal trays as a trade. “I’ve dealt with worse.” 

You put down the pillow before placing your breakfast plate onto it. This is when you notice that your top slipped down slightly. With a sigh, you stand back up and pull the top back over your bra. 

_ Why are we here? _ The thought suddenly occurs to him.  _ Why did we bring breakfast over to a girl we met just last night? _

“Here. I got some silverware.” 

Your neighbor seems to snap out of a trance, shaking his head slightly. ”Thanks.” 

_ ‘Soft hands.’ _ You note as his fingers brush against yours.  _ ‘Warm, gentle.’ _

Entranced, you momentarily forgot about your girlfriend. As soon as you remembered her, you quickly shoved the thought of her to the back of your mind. It’s not like you considered her to be that anymore. 

You sit down.

Forgotten, left behind, considered unimportant, cheated on. That wasn’t even half of it! The verbal abuse you suffered at her hands scarred you, physically. The marks hidden under small tops, small shorts, and lacy undergarments that she would never notice anymore. 

Maybe it’s about time you cut her off and tried someone else. Someone who wouldn’t treat you like you were less than the dirt under your feet. 

 

Venom found himself to be concerned when you put the breakfast tray a good distance away and pull your knees to your chest. From what he could feel from Eddie, this wasn’t normal and he might have a reason to be concerned. 

This feeling only grew when he heard your stomach growl in protest. 

**_“You should eat something.”_ **

 

Eddie’s voice seemed to catch in his throat, a deeper, raspier sound that frightened you slightly. You meet his blue-green gaze curiously. “You alright?” You ask with a smile. 

He clears his throat a dusting of pink covering his face. “Sorry. It’s just, you said that you haven’t had anything to eat yet.” 

You blink. “Oh!” 

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize that you put down the plate. Scooping it back up, you shovel a spoonful of whatever into your mouth. 

It’s bland and lukewarm, but it’s edible and you find yourself grateful to Eddie for thinking about you. He asked you a little about yourself and the two of you conversed until the packaged breakfasts were finished. 

“Thanks, Eddie.” You give him a smile after taking care of the breakfast stuff. “For keeping me company.” 

The man before you smiles back. “You’re welcome.”

***

It’s close to three in the afternoon once you get all of your equipment set up. Your stand in the middle of the living room, your cheek against the violin and the bow in your hand. 

It was hooked up to the amp - turned on low so it’s sound would travel through your apartment but not any further - and already tuned so you can play at any moment. 

You start simple with Lindsey Stirling’s  _ Pokèmon Theme _ as a warm-up. It’s the first song you memorized once you learned how to play. It was just a song to test the tune and your acoustic foam. Eddie hasn’t come knocking, so you assume it’s working. 

Right after you finish the song, you hear a knock. It’s Eddie again, who seems a little bashful this time.

“It sounds really good! It’s not loud at all. The padding seems to be working.”  

You smile warmly. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.” 

_ Ding. _

Urgently, you pull out our phone. 

_ Movers: We’re outside the complex.  _

“Ah, the movers are here with my things.” You say. “I’m going to help them haul everything up.” 

“I’ll get back to work.” He replies. 

 

Everything is hauled up and in place three hours later. It’s six in the evening and you find yourself with nothing to eat. 

_ I can’t ask Eddie for another favor. He’s already done a lot for me on his own. _

Your stomach growls, no longer satisfied with what you had your breakfast. 

_ Well, shit. _

 

**“She’s outside our door.”**

Eddie is surprised to hear the symbiote say this. He’d been quiet since you and they had breakfast. He didn’t even say anything about a “snack” during their grocery run. 

There’s a knock on his door. 

“Wow, I almost thought you left.” Eddie sarcastically states to Venom as he makes his way to the door. 

**“Something about this girl is off.”** Venom mentions.  **“You’ve been thinking about it, as well.”**

The journalist opens his door to see you there, looking shy but beautiful in your sleeveless shirt and cutoff jeans. 

“Hey.” He smiles lightly. “You need anything?” 

You chuckle, rubbing your left eye in a nervous habit. “Got any room for one more at the dinner table?” 


	2. Bad Behavior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girlfriend to ex, plus light stalking.  
> Cool.

The day of the concert passed in a blur. You met an extraordinary amount of people during the signing afterward. The number of photos on your phone with fans was enormous and you made sure to edit all of their names into the pictures so you could remember them.

Keys in one hand with your violin case in the other, you step out of the elevator. Your elevated mood from the day drops when you see the dark-haired woman in sweats outside your door. Confusion also bubbles up, but it’s swamped by dread.

“Tabitha?”

Your girlfriend, who you’re hoping is here to finally break off the relationship, turns toward the sound of your voice. Her round face lights up at your appearance. Even from this distance, you can see the red in her eyes.

“(Name)! Alex told me where you lived, so I decided to come over.” As she comes closer, you’re choking on the smell of cannabis and cigarettes. You back away, pulling your violin case behind you.

The utility knife on your keychain is looking to be your friend right now.

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news.” You say. “But you need to leave.”

This look like it hurt her. “Wait, why?”

“One, because you smell like someone raised you in an alley.” You answer, preparing yourself for your next sentence.

“And I’m leaving you there.”

She seems to be in denial. “You’re leaving me? You know that I’ll kill myself if you leave?”

“I’ll give you the means.”

Tabitha is obviously horrified that you would even decide to support that. You can’t bring yourself to care.

“Oh, that’s right! It’s not like you’ve said that to every other person you cheated on me with. And don’t lie to me about that; I know you have! Your ‘boyfriend’, John sent me video evidence of it!”

“Who?!”

You roll your eyes, shoving past her while keeping the instrument as far away from her as possible. “Of course you don’t remember. I’m surprised that you remember my _name_ most of the time.” You shove the key into your door’s lock. “Just go find someone else who will sleep with you, because it’s not me.”

`It’s almost hours later when the pounding on your door finally stops. You’ve had dinner and are drowning out the sound with the news when it ends.

“FUCK YOU, (NAME)! FUCK YOU AND YOUR CAREER! I HOPE YOU DIE!”

Likewise. You say to yourself as you toast the TV with your pinch of chip crumbs.

It’s like a weight’s been lifted off your shoulders. You’re so lifted by everything that’s happened today. You met fans, you finally broke up with your horrible girlfriend and you’re absolutely sure that the only thing that would make this day better is a visit from Eddie. But it’s just past midnight, so you’re absolutely sure that he’s in bed.

“On a lighter note tonight, rock band _Violin’s Dream_ has had one of the biggest turnouts for a fundraiser that the state of San Francisco has had in years. Over the past month, they raised close to two hundred million dollars for St. Jude Children’s Hospital which ended only moments ago as the clock struck midnight. During this show alone, they raised fifty million for the hospital, which is also thanks to their worldwide fan base all dedicating themselves to the cause.”

You have no idea when you passed out, but you remember waking up on your couch, stretched across it with your head on your arm and your arm tucked in corner of it.

Vibrating loudly on the floor was your phone, the caller ID reading as your ex-girlfriend’s name and number. You cancel the call, it’s notifications telling you that this makes her fourth time calling.

It’s ten in the morning. It’s about time you got up anyway.

You go through your usual morning routine; breakfast, shower, brushing teeth.

When you make it to your room to get some clothes, you see yourself in the full body mirror on the door to the closet. After a moment of debate, you lower your towel to see your body.

Irregular, tiny scabs mark your chest, stomach, and upper thighs from the sewing needles you used. Some are larger lines made by knives or razors. Most of them are healing or have already become barely visible scars.

You find yourself smiling. “It’s about time.”

***

Venom is currently making his way back from patrol. It’s two hours until noon and he’s high enough to keep from being spotted.

He’s on a personal mission.

On your fire escape, he lands silently. Through the window, he can see that you’ve just finished getting dressed.

The news is playing on a small TV in your bedroom. Professionally crude sketches made with vague details of him were flickering across the screen. The reporters were obviously talking about reporting any sightings and who to contact.

“Fucking news.” He hears you say as you shut the TV off. “As far as I’m concerned, he’s doing a better job of getting criminals off the street than our own cops.” He hears you sigh. “Who cares that they’re missing or dead? They’re horrible people who don’t deserve to be on this Earth anyway.”

There’s a moment of complete silence before he hears you sigh. “That’s a terrible thing to say.” You murmur.

_“You probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping on her.”_ He hears Eddie pipe in. Taking your turning motion as a hint, he leaps up onto the roof of the building.

**“Thought you were sleeping."**

_“Do you like her, V?”_

**“Something is wrong with her.”** Venom repeats from yesterday. **“She is… incomplete. We are curious.”**

 

You open the door to your apartment to head out when you see a messier-than-normal Eddie ready to knock. In a good mood, you smile brightly at him.

“Hi!”

Eddie feels Venom hum curiously, feeling the purr through his body. **She’s better.**

His shyness was showing through. “H-Hey.”

The violin case is lifted slightly and draws his attention. “I’m heading to the square. Hopefully, I’ll find some inspiration for my writing. Wanna tag along?” You offer.

At dinner last night, you learned that he, Eddie Brock, has a habit of referring to himself as a plural. He would always use "we" and “us” instead of “I” and “me”, You didn’t say anything, figuring that it was personal and he’d probably tell you at a later date. Probably when you’re better friends.

Not to mention, you’ve seen a fair share of consequences for “asking the wrong questions”.

He straightens looking slightly more composed than before. “Sure. Just let us get ready.”

_**Sh**_ **_e’s even more delectable than before._  **

Eddie waits until he’s back in his own apartment to scold the symbiote. “If you don’t knock it off, I’ll let slip what you say.”

**What makes you think that I don’t want you to?**

“You’ll scare her off, V! I’d rather not take the chance because one of the few chances I have to date someone after Anne.”

**You’re a pussy.**  Venom snarls. **If she doesn’t** **_like_ ** **us, she doesn’t** **_deserve_ ** **us.**

“She doesn’t deserve you making ‘adult’ comments at her, either!”

The argument continues until they opened the door, ready in some simple clothes for the weather. They see you brighten as your eyes landed on them, your smile growing.

“Ready to go?”

***

Neither Eddie or Venom realized how badly they wanted to hear you play. Sure, they heard some of your practice, but they drowned most of it out as they worked. This time, they watched you as you asked complete strangers for a moment of their time to play personal theme songs to them.

You would ask a group or a single person for a moment and ask them to pose for you. Most of them, while confused, did as you asked and allowed you to play for them. After a few minutes, people started coming up to you and asking if you could play for them.

The symbiote/man hybrid was absolutely enthralled by your violin. They were far enough away that it wouldn’t hurt them, but close enough to hear every note.

A small amount of the people that passed uncaringly just threw change mindlessly into the violin’s case by your feet. Eddie and Venom saw them, but you were too caught up in making strangers’ days better by playing personal tunes for them.

**“One for us.”**

You jump at Eddie’s voice behind you before turning around and smiling at him. “You want me to play for you?” You ask, readying your instrument.

The man before you never moves, but something about him seems to loom over you. His very presence is stifling, something like a combination of fear and happiness is trapping you. He remains slightly hunched, his hands in the pockets of his jacket and his eyes full of intrigue and adoration. Those very same blue-green eyes seem to have lightened considerably, like a transparent film coats them.

In that single look, you are both absolutely terrified and utterly adored. Love and fear, a combination you never thought would come together.

Just like a violin in a rock song.

And though your music, you play the emotions that course through you. Whatever magic comes from the notes soothes that beast, you can see. The fear-causing presence seems to melt away at the sound of the violin. You can hear a rumble from his chest - like a cat’s purr - echoing the notes you play. He seems to commit them to memory.

Inspiration strikes you. You play out the last note before quickly making your way over to your notebook and writing a new part in the song you’ve been working on.

You take the moment after you finish writing to play it in your mind. Everything plays repeating the part you wrote in your mind. Over and over, it plays, forcing you to memorize it all at once.

_Violin and voice harmonize. Guitar and drums end with a flourish. Down, down, down, harmonizing until the last note. And silence._

“Perfect!”

You turn your gaze to Eddie, smiling proudly as you gather up the change that was unnecessarily thrown into your case. “Thank you! I finally finished the song I’ve been writing for months! And I have a new one in the works.” You say as you make your way over to a different street performer to drop all of the change into their own case.

The dark-haired make returns your smile as he follows, visibly preening at your comment. At least, he was to you; to everyone else, it only looked like he was straightening his back.

**_“_ ** _Y_ **_o_ ** _u_ **_’r_ ** _e_ **_w_ ** _e_ **_l_ ** _c_ **_o_ ** _m_ **_e_ ** _."_


	3. Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ADHD is unpredictable. Your mind wanders to the right thing at the wrong time.

Right after the two of you returned from the square and you finally took a moment to relax your mind, there was a knock.

As soon as the door had opened, the very same man you spent the afternoon with blurted out a request for dinner that barely resembled English. You managed to catch bits and pieces before you had to stop him and slow him down.

It’s the day right after that. You talked to your therapist, who congratulated you on your progress (she’s been telling you to break up with your girlfriend since you told her) and hurried home before you could have a chance at seeing Eddie again.  

Your ADHD was kicking in today, which is why you were trying to avoid the man. It was so bad that Phoebe, your therapist, commented on it before you left her office. You don't understand why, because you took your Adderall like you usually do.

Fidgeting and talking became much more noticeable. You accidentally interrupted more than one conversation during your session. You kept taking pens off the desk and twirling them, tapping your foot on the floor became an instinct.

Impulsive behavior is the one thing you learned to control. Relatively, at least. There were still some impulsive moments where you couldn’t get a hold of yourself.

_“(Name), are you okay?” Your casually dressed therapist gently snaps you from your daze. Her blonde hair is cropped close to her head except for the top, which is bright and fluffy with a mind of its own. She has an angular, soft face with bright blue, inquisitive eyes. She’s in a pair of black denim shorts that show off her curvy legs, a baggy graphic t-shirt with its design hidden behind a pastel pink leather jacket._

_“I don’t know.” You admit._

_“I think your ADHD decided to overpower your medicine. I recommend you stay home the rest of today.”_

_“I’ll try.”_

_“Alright. And that does it for today.” She smiles brightly at you. “I’ll see you next week.”_

Here’s the problem: you have to go get certain supplies for your dinner plan tonight. And by “dinner plan” you mean you just decided what you want and realize you don't have the stuff for it. That, and your phone is dead and charging, and you don’t have any paper. You don’t want to ask Eddie because you’re absolutely sure that the hyperactivity/impulsiveness of your mental problems will make you do something you’ll regret.

You repeat your small grocery list over and over, hoping to drill it into your mind before you made it to the store. Once you’re sure that you’re prepared, you sprint all the way down the apartment complex’s hallway to the elevator, rhythmically chanting your list in your mind.

It’s nice enough today and the store isn’t far. During your walk, you continue to chant what you need, walking briskly.

“New girl!” The older woman behind the counter greets you.

“Hey, Miss Chen.” You say. “Just some small things today.”

You grab what you need and bring it up to her.

“I’m surprised you’re still here.” She says. “Most people don’t last a week.”

“I’m not everyone else, ma’am.”

“Let this old lady tell you a secret, then, if you are brave enough to stick around town.”

She finishes bagging your items, then allows you to lean across the counter after you pay for them. “It’s no demon around here. And he is not like the television makes him out to be.”

Intrigued, you lean closer. “How do you know?”

“That is all I can say.” She hands you your change. “Now go, before this store gets into any more trouble while you’re here.”

***

“Practice on a Saturday? Are you sure, (Name)?” You hear the drummer’s translator say.

“Absolutely.” You answer politely. “I have a date tomorrow and we’re not practicing on Sunday because Kris has to go to church, so the best time we have is Saturday.”

“What about your neighbor?” Kris asks.

“I told him yesterday about practice. He’s said that if it bothers him too much, he’ll leave during that time.”

“I’ll be late.” The guitarist, Max, speaks up. “I’m hosting a fitness class early that morning.”

“I’ll be there.” Says Elizabeth, the backup vocalist.

“Gabrielle says she’ll be there, too.” The translator for your drummer notes.

“So, everyone?”

“Yeah.” They chorus.

“If I may ask,” Max starts. “Why so soon?”

“Because I finally finished the next new song for our album.” You speak confidently. “And I need your opinions on it before we head to the studio to record next week.”

“Don’t you think you’re moving a little too fast there, (Name)?” Kris asks, trying to drive a wedge in your leadership again.

“Don’t even start, Kris.” You retort. “We have a total of seven days of continuous practice in order to record most of our album the Monday after next.”

“Kris, can’t you ever let (Name) actually make the decisions?” Gabrielle’s slurred, slightly off-pitch voice enters through the speaker. “She is the band’s leader, after all. It’s like you’re trying to take over and leaving (Name) with all of the hard leader work while you take the credit.”

Silence. Absolute silence. You had no idea what to say; someone else finally said what’s been on your mind for _years_. Even if it was the deaf drummer, it felt like a weight was finally lifted from your shoulders.

“I have to agree,” Elizabeth says. “It does sound like you’re trying to take over, Kris. Just let (Name) handle the executive decisions. She’s doing a better job than you might, anyway.”

You can hear a hiss from Max after those words leave her mouth. “Need some aloe for that burn, Kris?” He asks.

The target growls through the receiver. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you all on Saturday.”

She hangs up, prompting a laugh from you. “Wow, guys. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank us,” Max says.  “It’s about time she got what was coming to her.”

“We know how you are, (Name).” Your backup singer informs. “You wouldn’t say it if your life depended on it.”

You hear laughter from the translator and Gabrielle. “Too true.” The male translates through chuckles.

“Yeah, I get it. Just get over here on Saturday, will you?”

***

“On the topic of crime bosses, Miss Aurora Corsetti turned herself into the San Francisco Police Department only a few hours ago. She was reduced to tears, admitting to all of the crimes she has ever been accused of and rambling about some sort of ‘monster’ that attacked her earlier that day. Her description of the creature, police say, matches previous descriptions of what everyone has taken to calling ‘The Demon of San Francisco’. Police are now working with her to find out where it might be going next, saying that catching it should be their first priority. They also say that afterward, they will be getting more information from Miss Corsetti about everyone she worked with and everyone else who might be tied to her crimes-”

You turn off the television, scowling. “Yeah, go after the _one_ person who just forced a huge crime boss to turn herself in.” You throw the remote onto your couch. “Once you _catch_ the demon, she won’t be so willing to-”

For only half of a second, you swear you saw a shadow flicker across the window that leads out onto the fire escape. Stunned, and slightly terrified, you’re frozen on the spot for a moment as your eyes flicker back and forth to make sure that you were just seeing things. In fact, you’re thinking it’s probably better if you had because the alternative was scarier.

“-to talk.” You finish warily. Quickly, you shake your head.

_Nevermind. It’s too late for this kind of thinking. I have a big day tomorrow._

You brush off the experience, turning out the lights before making your way to your own bedroom.

“Fuck. Cities like this one always scare me.” You mutter to yourself. “Always gotta be worried about getting grabbed off the street or something. And the police, who are supposed to protect us, would rather go after the one person in this city who’s doing that than help the people they _claim_ to protect.” You run a hand through your hair, taking out the small tangles. “The day I’m scared more of humans than a demon will be one hell of a day.”

Your bed’s frame creaks slightly as you unceremoniously drop yourself onto it.

“And it feels like it’ll be soon.”

***

He can hear the news report play. He barely contains the hiss he wishes to release when he hears about the police coming after him.

The report doesn’t interest him. The irritation that you express at the television is easy to see as it grows stronger as it drones on. A feeling of surprise washes over him as you click it off.

“Yeah, go after the _one_ person who just forced a huge crime boss to turn herself in.” He hears you growl. “Once you  _catch-_ ” You throw the remote at your couch with such ferocity that the alien finds himself recoiling. “the demon,” As you lift your head, he panics, crawling away from your window. “-she won’t be so willing to-”

That pause scares him. He’s absolutely sure you had seen him. Unease is rolling off of you and he can sense it. He crushes the desire to peek back in the window as soon as it arrives.

Venom likes you too much already to ruin your courtship with Eddie.

“-to talk.” He hears you finish warily.

It’s silent for another moment before you sigh. The light turns off and he hears your feet patter toward your bedroom. After another beat of silence, he opens the window a crack and slips inside.

There’s quite a bit more in the apartment than there used to be. There’s a white couch close to the center of the room with a knee-high wooden coffee table in front of it. Scattered about the table are thick folders and lined papers full of handwritten music, all of which had a designated instrument written on each. About the coffee table, on the floor, are albums from Violin’s Dream, the paper album art removed and placed carefully on the couch on either side. A large television is balanced on a small dresser, where the drawers were removed and turned into a shelving unit. The remote for the TV sits almost perfectly on the edge of the middle seat, ready to fall at any moment.

“Fuck. ... this one always… .”

Venom is drawn to the sound of your voice, which leads him down the hall to your bedroom. You’re obviously changing into more suitable clothes, ranting to yourself.

“The day I’m scared more of humans than a demon will be one hell of a day.”

Once again, he finds himself surprised by your words. He already _kind of_ knew what your opinion of him was but trusting him more than another person? Eddie already drilled it into him that people will always be scared of them, no matter how much good they do. However, you seem to be an exception.

He figures that he should take his leave.

**Later, Morsel. We’ll be seeing more of you.**


	4. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cake is very similar. You wonder why.

**“We like her, Eddie.”**

“I know.”

**“Is it because of another one of your ridiculous human customs?”**

“Yes, it is.”

**“We can do what we want. Why are we restrained by these customs?”**

Eddie thinks for a moment. “We don’t want to scare her off.” He repeats.

**“We’ve already established that. But if it’s so important to you, do your human thing. I’ll wait until** **_I_ ** **believe you need me.”**

 

_We’re friends, right? Friends can go out to dinner. Does he think of me like that? Holy shit, I’m going on a date with my hot neighbor, Eddie Brock!_

Tonight is the night you and he planned to go out. You find yourself debating both what to wear and what Eddie thinks about you.

Back and forth, your mind flipped between friendship and relationship, unable to decide between the two.

_Casual? Formal? Casual? Formal? Casual? Formal?_

_Fuck it, I’ll do both._

Business casual it is, then. A short, blue pantsuit a pair of sneakers. It’s a little different from what you would usually wear, as you usually wore something casual to things like this. However, this is _Eddie Brock,_ your _very_ attractive neighbor and friend who you like immensely.

_Shit. This isn’t what I’m going for, either._

_Well, fuck my life._

 

Eddie stands in front of the mirror, a short-sleeved, white, collared shirt and a pair of tan slacks on his person.  

**“Stuffy.”**

“You would say that. _You’re_ not trying to impress her.”

**“It shouldn’t be hard.”**

“Well, what do you recommend, then?”

It is a bad question, which the man realizes only after the fact. Even so, he allows the symbiote to grab whatever he wants.

Venom brought over a pair of loose jeans and a blue collared shirt that also fit loosely against their shared body.

“Really?” Eddie asks as he looks at them before looking back up at the mirror.

The symbiote replaces Eddie’s reflection, grinning. **“Both the morsel and I will like that better.”**

“And how do you know?”

**“Instinct.”**

“Yeah, I believe that.” He mutters, shaking his head as he changes into it.

 

_I look alright in green, I suppose. Maybe Kris was right?_

Back on tour, the singer bought you a sundress in your size as a souvenir from all the way in New York. She told you that you need something to go out in, as all of your clothes are casual.

It’s a cute lime green dress with a halter top, flared skirt, and decorated in black, floral lace.

_I have something similar that’s not a dress._

You quickly change into a mint green blouse and a pair of black yoga pants. This one makes you smile as you look in the mirror.

“Better.”

 

_Holy shit!_

Both the symbiote and Eddie marvel at your appearance as they step into the hallway. You’re wearing a mint green long-sleeved blouse that hung off your shoulders and a pair of black, form-fitting yoga pants which the blouse was tucked into. The collar of the blouse is decorated with black lace and gently dusted with blue glitter. Your hair was pulled back into a half ponytail, the rest of which is curled and resting over your shoulders. They’re stunned to silence.

They can see the color rising to your face as your eyes check them out the same way they do for you.

**_B_ ** _e_ **_a_ ** _u_ **_t_ ** _i_ **_f_ ** _u_ **_l_ ** _._

 

_Fuck._

Eddie’s fucking _hot_ . Like, _smoldering_ hot. You thought you were decent? Compared to Eddie?

Oh, fuck no.

This guy literally has to be the absolute _god_ of making casual sexy.

He’s in a long-sleeved, blue dress shirt with the first button undone, loose, slightly faded navy blue jeans to match. His dark hair is slightly damp; probably freshly washed. Is there a black tank top under his shirt?

_Oh my god, I can see his muscles through his shirt._

And let’s not talk about the way his wide eyes are shamelessly flitting over your own form.

Heat’s crawling up your face at an accelerated rate. There’s no way in _hell_ that he didn’t notice.

Embarrassed by the way your stomach seemed to do flips as his gaze met yours, you rubbed at your eye. “Y-You -” You take in a deep breath trying to calm down. “You look great.”

He chuckles as he tucks his thumbs into the belt loops on his jeans, a slight red hue on his own cheeks. “Thank you. You do, too.”

It feels like you might collapse with how weak you are in the knees.

“Thanks.”

 

After he learned that you didn’t have a car, you went on to discover that he had a goddamn _motorcycle_.

This man will be the death of you. Hot and badass?

_Yes, please._

He had only one helmet for the bike and insisted that you wear it. When you showed him you were hesitant, he told you that he’d feel better if you were safer.

Hot, badass, and a fucking _gentleman_?!

Cue your mother’s fangirling over and over in your mind.

So, here you are now, cruising around San Francisco with your hands on the man’s waist. You have no idea where he’s taking you, but you trust him enough to listen when he tells you it’s a surprise. Having never explored this city, your eyes flicker from one thing to the next in awe.

He brings the bike to a halt by a little restaurant on the outskirts of the city. It looks a little old fashioned with a hanging wooden sign with a logo and name etched into it.

“A.J.’s Thirsty Dragon?”

The hanging sign depicts a mug with a frothy beverage inside. On the mug’s handle is a tiny blue and gold wingless dragon wrapped around it with its head dunked inside the mug. It makes you smile.

“Yeah. we know the chef and the owner. They’re good friends of ours.” Eddie replies. “We come here when we need the company.”

Stepping inside is a drastic change from the calm exterior. Tables are packed full, the waitstaff glide between tables on skates and there are sounds and smells galore. It smells close to heavenly.

The host glides around the two of you almost as soon as you walk in. “Eddie Brock!” He greets. “Table for two?”

Eddie smiles. “If you could.”

“It’s the only seats we have currently available.” The host says, his hands clasping behind his back. “Everyone else has a party of three or more.” He turns and gestures for you both to follow. The man glides effortlessly as the two of you try to follow as best as you can. The two of you barely manage to keep up with the host, albeit in a clumsier fashion.

True to his word, the entire dining area, which is much bigger than it looks to be outside, is packed with people except for the tables that seat only two. He had apparently grabbed a menu during his trip, which he places in front of your seat.

“I’ll let Amber know you’re here, Eddie. The usual?”

“Yes, please,” Eddie replies, sitting down.

The host rolls away as you take your seat. It’s once you’re situated that you find yourself laughing. “Apparently you know _all_ the staff, Eddie.”

 

Venom feels just as embarrassed as Eddie, who flushes at the comment.

**They have my favorite.**

The symbiote is drawn here by his favorite snack. Eddie usually finds himself in no position to argue so he agrees. Almost all the staff know him by name and face because of both the owner, Jay and the chef, Amber.

“Ah, well, we come here often enough. I’d be surprised if they _didn’t_ know us.”

You flip open the menu and scan all the items. There were pictures by certain items that were labeled as specialties. However, there is a dessert item that catches your attention.

“‘The Venom’?”

Eddie’s gaze snaps back from his examination of the restaurant. “What?”

“It says ‘The Venom; a slice of triple-layered cake made with each layer made of different kinds of chocolate. The top layer is made with milk chocolate seasoned with cayenne pepper for a spicy kick, the middle is made with smooth white chocolate, and the bottom is bittersweet dark chocolate. Lastly, it is frosted with a sugar-free white and dark chocolate buttercream and decorated like San Francisco’s very own Anti-Hero.’”

You find yourself in awe at the picture that takes up the whole next page. A tall, almost pitch black cake sits on a crystal platter on a metal, waist high-table. The picture is taken from an upward angle, capturing the top of the cake and the baker behind it. The white arachnid design sits in the middle and what looks to be cotton-like fibers make what looks to be spider webs.

The baker beside the table looks happier than ever. She has her hands on her hips and the biggest grin on her face. She’s quite young, extremely pale, and small marks of acne dotting her face. She’s also round in both face and body, rolls and curves apparent. The girl’s face is accented with rectangular red and black plastic glasses and her eyes are hidden behind her lids. Dirty blonde hair is pulled back into a bun and covered with a matching hairnet. Her chef’s coat is dirtied with cocoa powder and colored smudges and her hands are coated in pure white powder.

Most would consider her to be pretty in a mental rather than physical sense. You say this to Eddie as you turn the menu to face him. 

“I remember taking this picture.” He comments as his eyes repeatedly scan over the cake. “It looks amazing.”

“It’s even better in person.”

The new voice makes the two of you look up. In the flesh, the woman in the picture stands. She’s grinning, a hand on her hip and her blue eyes sparkling.

“Amber!” Eddie lights up at her.

“Been a while, Ed.” She turns to you, her eyes sparkling even more. “And you’re (Name) (L. Name), violinist for Violin’s Dream!”

A fan?

You feel your smile growing at her contained excitement. “That’s me.” You say.

“You and Lindsey Stirling are idols to me.” She almost squeals, bouncing on her feet. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play.”

You’re mildly surprised by this. Considering that you and she are around the same age, it feels strange for her to refer to you as her ‘idol’. However, you realize that Miss Stirling is your idol as well, so you immediately crush the strange feeling.

Eddie grins out of the corner of your eye and you realize that this was a part of his plan. “Well, it’s wonderful to meet you.” You hold your hand out to her, which she shakes firmly. “And I hope you can find time to learn how to play. I see you’re very busy.” A gesture to the rest of the dining room makes her bow her head with a shy chuckle.

“Yeah. My younger brother barely managed to convince me to take a break.” She peeks at the menu as Eddie hands it back to you. “Man, I wish I could decorate like that.” She murmurs, looking at the cake. “Hours and hours of tips and pointers before Rachel had to step in and take it into her own hands because I couldn’t get it down.”

The man across from you chuckles. “I remember your brothers making faces behind me.” He replies. “We couldn’t get you to stop laughing.”

Amber smiles, nodding. “Oh, it was a delight.” she gently smacks her hands together in front of her. “Anyway, is there anything I can get for you guys? And don’t worry about paying for it. It’ll be my treat.”

Wanting to protest, but tempted by free food at the same time, you find yourself in some sort of awkward, half-assed attempt to say ‘no’ to the wonderful chef and fan in front of you. She quickly shoots you down before turning to Eddie and asking his opinion.

“Aren’t you on break?”

A pink hue flutters over her cheeks. “Ah, well, I kinda woke up knowing that my mental health wasn’t up to deal with so much stress today, so I need to keep myself distracted.” She answers.

He nods solemnly before responding with, “Alright, just our usual, Amber.”

The rotund female looks back at you. “Just some water for now.” You reply to her. “I need another moment to look.”

“Not a problem!”

It’s now that you notice the prices shown on the menu. “Woah, this stuff is cheap!”

Eddie laughs from his side. “Yeah, Amber and Jay don’t like it when people overprice their menu items. They tried to explain how to work out the price, but I couldn’t follow.”

You decide what you want mentally before looking back up at the journalist. “That sounds the same as trying to price out our albums.” You note.

The conversation strays only slightly before Amber comes back with drinks, taking down your order before she leaves again. Both of you go on to discuss your favorite album art before it moves onto bands, band members, then celebrities and actors. After Amber comes back with your food, the topic drastically changes to favorite foods, flavors and so on. This one continues until the chef returns once more.

“Don’t let them lie to you, (Name),” Amber says to you. “They have a thing for chocolate and the frozen snacks in Wal*Mart.”

_Them/They? She does it, too?_

Something is off. You didn’t mind when Eddie did it, but when someone else does it without the man even mentioning the odd habit? It seems like there’s something you’re not being told. It feels like a horrible inside joke.  

The man laughs. “Don’t give away all our secrets now, Am.”

She grins, placing something down in front of both of you. “I’d never, Ed.”

You glance at the item. It’s a piece of the triple layer cake the two of you were looking at earlier. You can see now that the cotton-like material is candy floss and that it’s  _not_ decorated like webs. It looks more like  _veins_ , actually. The patterns are too odd and random to be the patterned workings of a spider’s web unless it’s just a design flaw.

The top layer is an unsuspecting milk chocolate color, the middle is a fluffy white - not unlike angel’s food cake, and the bottom is very dark, almost coffee colored. It looks as good in front of you as it did in the picture.

“Give it a try!” Amber urges, rocking on her feet. “I make all the stuff by hand and my friend takes care of the decoration.”

A quick glance at Eddie shows you that he’s already eaten about half of the large slice. And let’s not mention the sounds he’s making while doing so.

With a fresh fork, provided with the plate, you take a nice sized piece with a little bit of every part before biting into the whole piece.

“Oh my God.” You cover your mouth, trying not to be rude.

It was a perfect mix of everything. There was a spicy kick mellowed with sweet white chocolate, countered by bitter dark chocolate. It was matched with the slightly sweet frosting and the thin, fibrous sugar. Now you understand completely why your date is sounding like he’s having the time of his life.

You meet the baker's eyes. “Amber, this is so good!”

With the biggest grin on her face, she hops around in a small circle, clapping and laughing. “You have no idea how happy that makes me!” She says. “I can impress my idol with one of my few skills.”

You grin. “God, if I knew about this, I’d come here more often!”

This draws a laugh from her. “Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s the only reason Eddie comes here anymore.”

“ **W** e   **a** d **o** r **e**   y **o** u **r**   c **o** o **k** i **n** g **,  A** m **b** e **r**.”

A chill runs down your spine. Two voices at once, through Eddie’s. You can recognize the two separate voices as well. One is obviously Eddie’s. The other is the same one that requested for you to play a song for him in the square. You heard this same thing after you thanked them for inspiring you.

She seems unaffected, a grin on her face as she meets his gaze. “Thank you.” She looks between the both of you, smiling. “I’ll leave the _two_ of you alone, then.”

Emphasis. Something’s telling you that you’re overthinking this, but the rest of you is saying otherwise. However, you can’t deny an old teacher’s words as they replay to you.

_“If you’re looking for something different in someone’s behavior, you’re going to find it. You’ll latch onto the smallest thing just to make it feel right to you, even if there really is nothing wrong.”_

You try to brush it off, but the thought keeps prickling as the back of your mind. _Something_ feels off.

After the encounter, the rest of the date continues as it had been. It’s over before you know it and you’re returning to your apartment worn out, but giddy. Your leftover cake, which Eddie had tried to steal more than once just trying to get back to the apartments, remains untouched in your own hands.

“Hey, before you disappear, when are you free next?”

Almost completely inside your apartment, you peek your head out of your door.

“Next? On Sunday, actually. Why?”

He gives you a nervous laugh. “I, ah, wanted to see if you’d like me to take you on a ride around the city? I know that you’re new here and I want to be the one to show you around.”

A smile breaks out on your lips. “Yeah, that’d be great!”

Goodbyes exchanged, you close your door as he opens his. With a heavy sigh, you make your way to the fridge and put the treat away. Even with the time that passed from that conversation, you still find yourself thinking about it.

“What are you, Eddie Brock?”


	5. The Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your ex returns. And not to beg for you to come back.   
> Venom makes a vow.

“You know I want to, but we can’t! You can hear their music _now_! It’ll hurt you to try and go over there!”

**“We** **_want_ ** **to see her! _I_** **think it’s worth it.”**

“ _I_ don’t! Just _drop it_ so I can work on this.”

Eddie can feel the symbiote under his skin, ready to take over whenever he wants. **“She belongs to** **_us_** **. We** **_both_ ** **claimed her. She** **_should be_ ** **with us!”**

“We can _wait_ for the others to leave.” The man enforces.

**“I’m sick of** **_waiting_** **! You always make us** **_wait_** **! Look where it’s gotten us! She could be ours** **_now._ ** **”**

“ _We’re not going over there._ ”

**“And** **_you’re_ ** **gonna stop me?”**

 

Something drew your attention. As soon as you pause, the rest do the same one after the other.

“What happened, (Name)?” Elizabeth asks.

“I thought I heard something.” You reply making your way over to the door. When you peek through the hole, you’re not surprised to see Eddie there. You expected him to show up earlier, actually. “It’s my neighbor.” You tell them as you open the door.

**“(Name).”**

It has to be your imagination, but his clothes seem to be _rippling_ , almost like they’re sentient. They seem to move and shift of their own accord, even seeming to change to an iridescent black from their normal beige. His tone of voice frightens you; did you do something wrong?

“Were we playing too loud?” You quickly ask. “We can turn it down, or-.”

**“No.”** His tone is low, hissing, almost restrained sounding.

You can feel that same looming presence from the square, feeling the hair on your neck and arms stand up. Instinctively, you move the door closer to being closed. “Then, could it wait?” You ask gently, lowkey terrified. “We _are_ in the middle of practice, after all.”

 

_I FUCKING TOLD YOU TO LEAVE HER ALONE!_ Eddie screams at the symbiote after you close the door.

**“We’ll return after our hunt.”**

***

Gabrielle, the band’s drummer, has always been a little strange. She‘s strangely drawn to smells and even appears to have a better sense of smell than everyone you’ve met. The dark-haired female also has insanely great vision, something you notice every time you go anywhere with her.

So, when she hangs around after everyone leaves, starting the conversation you’re about to have with, “Your neighbor smells funny”, you don’t find it as strange as you probably should. Of course, still a strange way to start a conversation, you have to make sure that her boyfriend and translator, Kenny didn’t mess up reading the woman’s hands.

“I swear I read it right!” He says, holding his hands up innocently.

The sparkle of light on his prosthetic arm always makes you look twice. You forget sometimes that it’s not a part of him, considering how easily he controls it.

“How do you mean?” You ask, which the man beside you translates.

This makes the tall drummer take a moment to think. “He smells like the beginning of a storm.” She says. “I think they called it ozone?” She pauses. “And meteorite exhibits in museums.”

You meet her boyfriend’s gaze at the same time he meets yours, only to learn that he’s just as confused as you.

Gabrielle rolls her eyes. “Back when we were on tour in New York, we were allowed to see the American Museum of Natural History. We walked through the Hall of Meteorites, where I recognized that man’s smell.”

“So, rain and space rocks?”

An embarrassing snort escapes you at Kenny’s statement. You immediately quiet as she signs something to him, looking urgent.

It’s only after a short exchange between the two that she looks back at you. “Please be careful around him.” She says. “I think there’s something about him that he’s keeping from you.”

“Like what?”

Kenny speaks this time. “Something supernatural or extraterrestrial. A hidden side or ego under his skin. Similar to that community that recently formed over in Mass for werewolves, vampires, and the like.”

_That_ had been an ordeal. You remember the media going absolutely ballistic when the massive amount of people came forward and admitted that they were any sort of mythical creature. It actually felt similar to the GLBT rise, now that you think about it.

“Why should I, though?” You ask, sitting back into your couch. “Just because ‘he smells funny’?” They both open their mouths, but you continue with, “Look, even if what you say is true, I _know_ that I shouldn’t be scared of Eddie. I _know_ he won’t hurt me on purpose.”

‘On purpose’ seems to hit a nerve with both of them. Kenny’s right hand gently grazes over the prosthetic. “Just be careful,” Kenny says. “Gabby’s hardly ever wrong.”

With his words, the three of you stand and head over to the door. “Sure, I’ll try to be careful. Only because I trust you two, okay?”

The two of them nod at you before saying their farewells. You do the same before dismissing them and closing the door behind you.

You take the free time you have now to clean up your own stuff. The speakers and amplifiers go into the corner of the living room, your violin into its case and in the clear corner of your closet in your room, and your music sheets into its messy organization on your coffee table.

After everything’s done, another knock stops you from continuing your writing. Like a proper human being, you make your way over to the door and open it, already expecting Eddie to be there.

“So what did you want to talk about while we were practicing?” You turn toward your guest, only for your ex’s hands to go around your throat.

***

When Eddie and Venom make their way to their floor, they’re surprised to see the police hovering outside your apartment door.

**What are they doing here? Is our morsel okay?**

“Excuse me, sir?” An older, tired-looking man catches Eddie’s attention. His voice carries a southern lilt, his skin deeply tanned and his dark blonde hair is lightly accented by grey. He’s in a pink dress shirt with a black and grey striped tie with dark grey slacks. He’s stout but tall, something about him saying that he could be intimidating if he tried. “Could I ask you a few questions?”

**Don’t trust officers. They might know us.**

“Sure.” Eddie answers. “Did something happen?”

The man pulls out his badge. “I’m Detective Daniels of the San Francisco Police Department. Do you live around here, sir?”

“Right across the hall.”

“Do you know Miss (Name) (L. Name)?”

**Ours!**

“Yeah, we spent some time together. What happened?”

“We think it was a domestic dispute.” The man replies. “Do you know if she was in any sort of relationship before she moved in next to you?”

“No, not at all.”

**She never told us**.

“Do you know anyone that might hold animosity toward her? Any reason someone might want to hurt her?”

**“I** s **s** h **e** o **k** a **y**? **!”**

Detective Daniels holds a gentle hand up to Eddie’s shoulder. “She’s alive. An ambulance has taken her to the hospital and once she wakes up, we’ll ask her what happened. We’re just trying to get the neighbors statements for now.”

**Someone attacked** **_our_ ** **morsel?!**

“Someone by the name of Kenneth James told us that she recently broke up with a girlfriend that didn’t treat her well in the first place. Right now, we’re trying to confirm her as a suspect because of motive.”

Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets, trying to quell the symbiote. “Can I ask who this ex-girlfriend is?”

“Tabitha Jade. She’s currently being taken in for questioning.”

He feels Venom under his skin, grinning maliciously.

_After we see (Name)._

 

“She _is_ awake and currently speaking with an officer at the moment. You can wait outside the room if you’d like, Mr. Brock.”

 

After the officer leaves, your bandmates enter the room. With your throat in so much pain, you wave as they enter. They all seem shocked at the bruise on your neck.

“Holy shit!” Max, the dark-haired male built like a tank rushes over to you. The giant of a man kneels beside your bed worry in his eyes. “(Name), are you okay?”

You give him a thumbs up.

As okay as you can be, really. You had been choked within an inch of your life, thrown around your entire apartment, and were only saved by Gabby leaving her drumsticks behind. She had thrown Tabitha around in almost the same manner you had been before throwing her out and calling the police. The girl herself is elsewhere, as is Kenny.

The concern in Max’s eyes upsets you. He’s like the mother hen of the group, intimidating, but actually a sweetheart.

Despite the raw feeling of your throat, you smile and say “it could be worse.”

They all flinch at the sound of your voice, scratchy and hoarse.

“Gabby told us,” Kris says. “What she did to you is horrible, even more than her entire relationship with you. Hopefully, she’ll be facing criminal charges.”

“She fucking better.” You graze your hand over the bandages over your neck, head, and arm.

 

_As her hands tighten around your throat, you see the bloodstains on her sleeves. It’s almost like a trail up the entirety of her arms._

_“I can’t die with regrets!” She says as you claw at her arms. “So I’m taking you with me!”_

_You break her hold on your neck by driving your elbow into her own. She drops you with a cry, hissing as she grabs her arm, which bleeds fresh. Breathing deeply to get back the oxygen you lost, you back up into your coffee table. Desperately, you reach onto the table, your fingers grasping a pencil._

_Swinging, you attempt to keep her from grabbing you again. However, she easily evades your panic-fueled attack, grabbing the collar of your shirt and lifting you to your feet. She slams you into your coffee table, snapping it in half and knocking the wind out of you._

_Wood splinters cut through your skin, their sting only momentary before it’s replaced by adrenaline-fueled numbness. You dropped the pencil, and quickly realize that it was a poor excuse for a weapon anyway. You’re covered in your music folders and papers, which aren’t exactly useful either._

_Tabitha’s hands are around your throat again. You search with your hand, trying to find_ anything _more stable to protect yourself as you struggle for air. When your vision starts going, you reach up to her blurry face and start pushing your fingers into, hopefully, her more vulnerable spots. Your neck is released for less than a second as she shoves your arm away._

_With one breath inside you, you manage to grab something jagged and stab her at random. A sharp piece of wood cuts through her hand like a knife in soft butter. The warmth of her blood seeps through your thin shirt and drips onto your leg as she backs away, crying silently._

_Gasping, you stumble to your feet, barely ducking out of the way as she attacks you with that very same piece of wood. You run for the kitchen, grabbing a nearly empty glass for protection. She follows to continue her attack, allowing you to smash the glass on her head. It cuts into your hand and her head, but she’s almost barely phased by it as she grabs your shirt again, shoving you into the glass and ceramic plates you were drying on a rack._

_Pain blossoms in your head and your vision blurs as you’re thrown to the floor, which you’re barely able to cushion. Tabitha straddles you and you catch her attack with your arms, which shake because of her force. It feels like you hold her there forever before you hear your door open._

_“(Name), I- Hey! Get off her!”_

_Gabby’s voice is a welcome relief. At the sound, Tabitha stabs the glass into your arm, causing you to cry out again. The deaf female rushes over and grabs your attacker, pulling her off of you._

_“Kenny, call the police and an ambulance!”_

 

“You, Gabby, and Kenny will have to head to court,” Liz says, running a hand through her mahogany colored hair. “To testify and all that.”

“I wish I knew,” Max speaks up. “I wouldn’t have ever thought she’d go so far.”

“I don’t doubt she’ll be in jail awhile.” Says Kris. “She’s already violated her restraining order from Liz multiple times. And now is charged with attempted murder? I doubt she’ll be out in a few years.”

Max squeezes your hand. “Just watch yourself, (Name). Just in case she does get out.”

You give him another thumbs up, unable to move your head.

“We’ll let you rest,” Elizabeth tells you, patting Max on his broad shoulder.

They follow him out, except for Kris, who looks slightly bashful. “I’m sorry.” She says after the door shuts. Her brown hair falls in front of her face as she clenches her green sweater. “I did try to undermine you. And I want to apologize. It was intentional, but it’s wrong. I won’t do it anymore. You’ve led this band since we formed and it’d be wrong to take that from you.”

“Thank you.” You force out.

She gives you a solemn nod before leaving. After the door closes, you can hear her say something to someone outside. You can’t make it out, but it’s quiet and generally undisturbing. Her shadow walks away and another replaces it.

A small wave is all you give Eddie as he walks in. His eyes catch sight of the bruises on your neck and he seems to freeze. You give him a grin in an attempt to reassure him.

“It feels like it looks if you’re wondering.”

You saw it in the bathroom mirror. Yeah, the pain in your neck matches the horrible red and purple marks. As long as you treat them well, they shouldn’t last more than two weeks.

There it was again, though. That strange, white haze that settles over his eyes in a sort of restraint. You can see that same rippling effect in his clothes from earlier today, too.

“ **W** e’ **l** l **k** i **l** l **h** e **r**.”

That low, underlying, raspy tone mixed with Eddie’s lighter, but harsh and angry one. Terrified chills crawl down your spine at the sound of it, and you find yourself unable to restrain the flinch it causes. And even though his words _should_ provoke some kind of moral instinct in you, they don’t. In fact, you’re kinda hoping he _does_.

“I don’t want you to go to jail.”

**“Let them** **_try_ ** **to take us.”**

The openly protective, gravely voice hisses from Eddie’s mouth. It’s not his own, but the same one that told you to eat something only a few days ago. You’re glad that you’re not on his bad side.

 

Venom tries to restrain himself. He honestly does. But there’s something about seeing you hurt that fuels his and Eddie’s shared rage.

The dark bruises on your neck in the shape of hands, the bandage wrapped around your head, and the one around your arm. He wants nothing more than to heal you himself and to kill this ex-girlfriend of yours.

No one will get away with hurting you.

Eddie brings him back under control. He lets him. He knows he’ll do _something_ bad if he releases his anger. So he stays conscious with Eddie, sharing the experience, unable to control the rippling of Eddie’s clothes. He urges his host forward.

“Who was that we met in the hall?”

They both lighten when they see you smile. “Oh, that’s Kris! She’s actually one of the first members I got to join the band.” They take a seat. “I’ll tell you more about it when my voice recovers. Meanwhile,” Your hand - the one that isn’t bandaged - hits the side of the hospital mattress. “Care to tell me about the _marvelous_ Eddie Brock?”

The symbiote purrs, happy to comply with any of your requests. Eddie is the same but restrains both of them to a quiet chuckle.

“Sure.”


	6. Amber and Venom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit. The Demon of San Francisco!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >_< I broke my keyboard. I can't work properly and the pop up keyboard sucks! I am sad.  
> But, Merry Christmas to those who celebrate. And happy holidays to everyone else!

_“You saved me. Why would I be scared of you?”_

**_“You’d be surprised, Morsel. Most humans scream when they see me. It doesn’t matter if we save them. Eddie says it’s because we’re different.”_ **

 

Amber did not expect to see the symbiote perched on the roof of her restaurant as she started leaving. Then again, she had never expected to be friends with him and his host.

“Hey, Venom.”

She invites him inside, the vigilante making his way to the secluded back door. She quickly unlocks the front door right after locking it and makes her way back inside. In the back, the baker hears the alien grunt as he fits himself through the window, which she knew had been previously locked. She makes her way to the kitchen.

Eddie now sits on the counter, his gaze distant. Amber notices. She’s been his friend for a long while.

“Ed?”

“She was attacked by an ex-girlfriend. Tabitha Jade.”

The name makes the baker’s face darken. She slams an angry fist into her metal counter, Eddie’s gaze snapping up to her.

“Tabitha Jade is a fucking pitiful excuse for a human being.”

The language and tone of her voice concern Eddie.

“She used to be the girlfriend of my brother and a woman by the name of Elizabeth Rei. They were in a three-way relationship when Tabitha started clinging to my brother. When they confronted her, she left them and changed her behavior to the complete opposite of how she used to be. They broke up with her after that, not wanting to deal with someone who struggles with how they want their personality. She has had a huge problem with weed, cigarettes, and prescription antidepressants. She could never understand the difference between a verbal attack and a business tone of voice. She pushed herself into conversations that didn’t need her opinion. She always had a story to counter the ones we told and it _had_ to be an attempt to one-up everyone.

“And now she _abuses people?!_ ”

Amber threw a wooden stirring spoon as the wall so hard, it snapped in half. Out of the corner of her eye, the could see the symbiote flush over Eddie for a brief moment.

“You have a history with her.”

“Yeah.” Her blue eyes flicker over to Eddie. “I don’t know where she went after my brother and Liz broke up with her, but I know someone who does. His name is Max Castillo, and he’s my brother’s best friend. He’s in charge of enforcing the restraining order John has against her. He could probably tell you.”

**“Why do you tell us this?”**

The baker snarls, “I think the Demon of San Francisco deserves an easy snack.”

 

It’s cold today. You’re standing in front of your mirror with a t-shirt and shorts on, visualizing what to wear around the city.

_T-shirt, scarf, maybe a nice jacket and some skinny jeans? A beanie would look good, too._

While you were in the hospital last night, you’d been informed that you needed stitches on your scalp and that they had to shave around it to administer them. The bandage they wrapped around your head was just a precaution and now you were able to just wear a patch over the stitches. Same with the ones on your arm.

Yeah, everything itches and aches, but you can still go sightseeing around San Francisco. You’re not just going to cancel because there’s a dull pain in every single one of your joints whenever you move. There have been people who have shown up at your concerts with something worse than a small ache.

_Ooh, these look good with that tank top._

“GIRLS LOVE GIRLS AND BOYS-”

“HOLY FUCK!”

Your phone blasts Panic! At The Disco. Knowing who it is just by the ringtone, you fumble to pull it out of your pocket and quickly answer with “Doctor Braun! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon!”

“I know it’s sudden, but your friend, Kenny told me what happened.” Her sweet, worried tone filters through the receiver. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh, yeah! I’m alright. I was discharged late last night. I’ve been prescribed some pain meds that the doctors assure me won’t interfere with my Adderall or Prozac.”

“That’s good. I also need to check with you to see if you can come in around five tonight. I feel that we should probably discuss this as soon as we can.”

You rub at your eye, sighing deeply. Having already recited the experience to your friends, Eddie, and the police, you’re not really feeling up to saying the same thing to her. Even so, you feel like it’s better to tell it while it’s fresh in your mind rather than waiting until next Thursday.

“I can be there.”

“Alright.” You can feel her smile through the receiver. “Please be careful, (Name).”

“Will do, Doc.”

Hanging up, you look at the outfit you were thinking of. A grey tank with black lace strips and a pair of grey leggings. You also had a similarly colored denim jacket to go over it.

“This one’ll do.”

 

“(Name) is also why we sought you, Amber.”

Said female finally looks up from her hands. “What? Why?”

“She doesn’t know.”

Realization flashes over her face, and Eddie can see it. “You haven’t told her?”

“I don’t know how.” He replies, the symbiote materializing on his shoulder.

Amber suddenly looks tired, her hands covering her face. “ _I_ know because _he_ tried to sneak the rest of your favorite cake of mine from the display months ago.” She murmurs. “But it shouldn’t be _sudden_ , you know. She might freak out the same way I did.”

She runs her hands through her hair. “Does she play the news often?”

“Yeah.”

This perks her up. “You’re sure?” Eddie nods. “Well, when _you_ ,” She points at Venom. “come up on TV, it’s a perfect opportunity! You got it?”

The symbiote gives her an answering rumble as the two think. **“We like her.”** He says to Amber. **“Eddie won’t let us have her. Says we must wait.”**

A smile grows on her face. “He’s right, though.” She replies. “She should probably know about you, Vee, first, don’t you think?”

“That’s what _I_ told him!” Eddie brushes away the tendril that tries to flick him. “But _no_ , he won’t listen to _me_.”  

**“What is it you say at work? ‘Always good to get a second opinion’?”**

Laughter bubbles up from Amber’s chest. “Ooh, he’s giving some sass, Eddie! You got competition!”

They all share a laugh, the sound echoing in the dark, quiet restaurant.

 

You find yourself smiling as Eddie comes into view, standing beside his motorcycle. The noon sunlight reflects off the bike, almost blinding you. It _is_ beautifully bright today.

“Hey!”

The man in question brightens at your appearance. “(Name)!”

He has the helmet in his hands already, so you just let him set it on your head and adjust it. The thought crosses your mind that he might feel the nervous swallow that happens as he slips it into place, his fingers brushing over your throat. That, or your racing pulse.

“Ready?”

It takes a moment to register that he said anything. “Y-Yeah! Of course!”

That cloudy haze coats his blue-green eyes again. Like a shadow flickering across his face, it’s gone the moment you try to focus on it. It reminds you of a slip up in emotions when you talk to someone you dislike.

However, it _feels_ much different. You know Eddie doesn’t hate you. You can see it in his eyes, which seem to sparkle at your reply.

“Let’s go. I know some great places to visit here in the city.”

Before you get on the bike, you tap his shoulder after he sets himself. “I should also let you know, I have an appointment to go to at five, so I’ll need to be home by four.”

He meets your eyes. “You want us to take you?”

Your face heats up. “I mean if it’s no trouble.” You rub your eye.

 _That fucking smile_ will give you cardiac arrest real quick. “Not at all!”

***

The two drove around the city, stopping by tourist attractions and some memorable restaurants to try what Eddie claims to be their best dishes. You stop by A.J.’s to see Amber before you head to your appointment.

“(Name) (L. Name) for Doctor Braun. Birthdate is (D.O.B.).”

“Please have a seat and she’ll be with you shortly.”

Eddie sat down with you, chatting idly back and forth about songs you could play.

“I’m really good at Evanescence’s music.” You mention. “The style for their ‘Fallen’ album is so easy to translate into the violin. Imagine Dragons style sounds really good with a violin, but it’s harder to translate.”

“Have you made any originals?”

“Yeah! Of course! We sprinkle the covers in between.” You sit back in the plush seat. “We are actually shooting a music video for one called Mania, the lyrics I wrote during one of my favorite moments in my life. Everyone else chipped in as well. Each verse is a band member’s favorite memory. We plan on shooting sometime next month, with each member playing themselves in each verse.”

He’s impressed. You’ve already told him about all the other work you do and to learn that you help direct your own music videos? It gives him a newfound sense of awe with you. You do so much work, take time every week to visit a therapist, and spend most of your free time with him and Venom.

“(Name)?”

You look up to see the pastel dressed female standing in the doorway. Making your way over to her, you take a moment to smile back at Eddie. “We won’t be long.”

 

His heart feels like it stutters at your smile. He gives you one of his own as a reply as you disappear.

**What are they doing?**

“Talking.”

**Why?**

“It helps (Name) cope with her feelings.”

Like a curious dog, Eddie can _feel_ the symbiote’s head tilt as he thinks. **Help her become complete?**

The man looks around the mostly empty waiting room. “What do you mean by that?”

 **She does not show us** **_all_ ** **of herself.**

Eddie thinks about this for a moment. “We all have our secrets.”

**We want to know hers.**

“Well, that’s creepy.”

**You’re thinking it, too.**

“Not the point.”

Venom pauses and the journalist thinks he can feel the symbiote process his words in their entirety. Venom has something else on his mind, though.

**She is in pain.**

He snaps his head up to look at the door. The door, however, reveals nothing as to how Venom can tell. Even so, Eddie feels his heart lurch at the idea of you being hurt.

 **Not physical.** Venom adds, which quickly explains why he hasn’t tried to break through the door. **She sounds angry at herself.**

“Why?”

The symbiote growls. **Can’t hear much.**

“Shit.”

**We should help.**

Eddie shakes his head. “No. We can’t. She has to handle it on her own.”

**Why?**

“There’s not a whole lot we can do. She’s probably just retelling what happened with her ex. She’s obviously traumatized by it.”

Venom searches through Eddie’s memories, learning what that means. Even so, he finds that he doesn’t really understand. **Does she fight her own mind?** He questions.

“In a way.” Eddie shrugs.

The two remain in silence for the rest of the session, mulling over their own thoughts.

 

You try to wipe the remainder of your tears on the sleeves of your jacket. “Thanks, Phoebe.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” She says. “Anxiety attacks happen often after something like this. You’re not the only one.”

You smile gratefully. “Is there anything else you need to ask me?”

“Not unless you have something else you wanna tell me.” She gently encourages. “I did see that you came in with someone.”

An embarrassed chuckle escapes. “Nah. We’re, uh, _friends_ right at the moment. I’m hoping to find a little more time to date him, though.”

This makes her smile brighter. “That’s good! If you need help finding that time, I recommend that you find yourself a talent manager. From what you’ve told me, you’ve been handling all the same work they do but on your own.”

“You’re sure they’ll help clear my schedule?”

“Not absolutely.” She says. “Nothing is guaranteed. Having some more time will also give you an opportunity to work on the ‘feelings journal’ I asked you to keep.”

You nod at this. “Yeah. Do you want me to give you my medicine calendar this Thursday?”

“Please do.”

The two of you exchange your farewells after she dismisses you. You leave the room, noticing your date patiently waiting for you in his seat. As soon as you exit - with uncanny and slightly terrifying timing, you might add - he looks up from his phone.

The door clicks shut behind you.

“Finished?”

***

Eddie has the two of you cruising around the city for a couple more hours before you stop at a diner for dinner.

The two of you are one turn away from your apartment building when a sound, while not out of place but still dangerous catches your attention. Cars around you are slower and fewer without the rush, so it comes as no surprise to hear the roar of a speeding engine.

He moves forward, a green light giving him right of way. It’s now when you see the speeding car barreling toward the two of you.

“Eddie!”

You have no time to move; the car is moving too fast. A glance at the man you’re holding onto shows you something strange.

A black, oily looking substance ripples out from his back, enveloping you. It wraps you up, cocooning you in silky smooth warmth. It blocks your eyes and it takes everything you have to keep from screaming.

There’s an impact; you can feel it through the black shell that covers you. However, you’re unharmed, the damage obviously absorbed by your cocoon. Another follows shortly after and then you’re rolling, probably on the street.

Your vision returns with a weight pressed against your chest. Eddie has his arms wrapped loosely around you and his eyes are closed, leading you to believe he’s unconscious.

Police whiz by, and you barely notice them. You think you’re in shock; your heart is racing, you’re shaking, and you feel like you’re breathing too fast.

“Breathe, (Name).”

He’s in front of you now, holding onto your shoulders. His breaths are exaggerated as he attempts to get you to do the same. Slowly, you manage to follow his instructions.

“Alright, let’s get home.”

Eddie lifts you to your feet, which feel weak and heavy to you. You can barely walk, which he quickly rectifies by pulling you flush against him and lifting you into his arms.

Next thing you know, you’re sitting on a couch that’s not your own with a warm glass in your hands. He’s beside you, keeping a good distance between the two of you.

“W-What-“ the word is barely recognizable as English. You barely manage to swallow before you try again. “W-What happened?”

Moment by moment, Eddie explains. You process everything you saw with what he’s telling you up until he says, “My other shielded you from the impact.”

“Your ‘other’?”

When he nods, you feel as though you should snuff the flicker of curiosity, but your brain-to-mouth filter decided to take a break.

“Who is your other?”

It takes only one more moment for the man beside you to become enveloped in that very same silky black that protected you. It grows, towering over you until it’s close enough to the ceiling to touch it with those clawed fingers.

The Demon of San Francisco, standing over you in your _hot_ neighbor’s apartment and reaching probably a solid eight feet tall. The ceiling is eight and a half feet from the floor, which you had to measure for your acoustic foam. It could swallow you whole if it wanted, it’s sharp teeth making your heart leap into your throat.

**“Hello, (Name).”**

_Fuck_.

It’s the _same fucking voice_ from your second day knowing Eddie! That _fucking_ protective, deep, hissing voice that merged with Eddie’s the day you were in the hospital!

“ _You_!”

You’re obviously angry, now, the feeling of surprise and shock fading away as you realize that your friend kept this from you. The breakfast date, your practice at the square, even at A.J.’s! And _Amber knew_ ! Technically, you’ve _just started_ dating him but it would’ve been nice to know!

 **“We haven’t scared you away just yet.”** It crouches next to you, unaware of your boiling anger. **“He was looking for a time to tell you about me, morsel.”**

“ _What?_ ”

**“I told him to tell you, as did Amber. We couldn’t find a good time. We didn’t want to frighten you.”**

Something tells you that he won’t hurt you, so your heart-pounding fear is quickly replaced. They both saved you, which you come to realize as soon as the fear washes away. Your anger quickly follows.

“Gabrielle was right.” You murmur.

 **“The cat girl?”** It growls. **“We knew she could sense us. She has a strong smell.”**

You look up at him. “S-So, you and Eddie…?”

 **“We are one, and separate.”** It answers. **“Independent, but reliant on each other.”**

Back in your high school biology class, you remember having a class on creatures that require another creature to survive; a symbiotic organism. You only remember two classifications; parasitic and mutualistic. The difference is that parasitic organisms benefit while their hosts are harmed. Mutualistic relationships are when both parties benefit.

“You’re a mutualistic symbiote.”

**“I’ve been called that.”**

“What’s your name, then?”

It’s smile widens.

 **“** **_We are Venom_ ** **.”**

Fascination and curiosity start making their way to the forefront. The symbiote’s skin has an oily iridescence about it, broken up by bulging, white veins. As you stare, you find it hard to believe that Eddie can hide this creature under his skin - within himself - and consciously speak to it. It’s easily terrifying, rows of sharp teeth creating its serrated smile and its figure hulking over your own. There’s no more fear from you, though.

**“You don’t fear us anymore.”**

“You saved me. Why would I be scared of you?” You inquire, taking a tentative step closer.

 **“You’d be surprised, Morsel.”** It drops down to one knee, coming down to eye level. **“Most humans scream when they see me. It doesn’t matter if we save them. Eddie says that it’s because we’re different.”**

“Well,” A dry laugh escapes you. “That’s most of humanity for you.”

The shock of the situation is returning. Your heart and mind start to race. “Oh my God.” Tears sting at your eyes as you realize that if Venom wasn’t there, you would’ve died.

You’re wrapped up in a wholly human embrace, almost crushed against Eddie. He holds you with a force that scarcely allows you to breathe, keeping you to his chest as you’re overwhelmed with emotion once more. You can’t return it with how your bodies are pressed together.

“Your bike, Eddie.”

“It can be replaced.” He murmurs.

Your hands, crushed between your flush bodies, are covered by a cool, silky-feeling weight that massages them. It’s not Eddie; his hands are still on the small of your back. When you go to pull them away from the new force, Eddie says, “it’s Vee, (Name). He wants you to feel better, too.”

It feels only slightly different from holding a person’s hand. There are no lines or creases on it, like a tight glove and is perfectly smooth. You focus on it, the feeling grounding you and keeping you from a second anxiety attack for today.

_He. Venom is a ‘he’, not an ‘It’._

“Does this mean I’m dating two people rather than one?”

Eddie bursts into laughter, his entire form shaking with it. “He says yes.”


	7. Mutual Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Venom doesn't have a chance to feel safe with how much he's hunted here in San Francisco.
> 
> The attack is fresh on your mind. 
> 
> You care about the two of them, and they do the same for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be slow because my computer broke. I might not be able to update next week because I gotta type on my phone. >.< Thanks for understanding.

“Malcolm Pellish speaking, how can I help you on this wonderful Wednesday afternoon?” 

The voice is smooth and rich, and you find yourself picturing a dark-skinned male on the other side. “Hello, I’m hoping to speak to you about a talent manager for my band. I was told to talk to you.” 

“May I ask who I’m speaking with?” 

“(Name) (L. Name) of Violin’s Dream.”

A beat of silence. “Oh. My. God. Are you serious?!” His voice has risen two octaves. 

“Yes, sir.” 

Another moment of silence prepares you for the worst. You pull the phone away from your ear just as a high-pitched squeal escapes the speaker, loud enough to rival a little girl. The other band members look up at the sound, their eyes on you. Once it ends, you put the phone back to your ear.

“A fan?” You ask, smiling. 

“Darling, I have always wanted to manage a band like yours! You’ve been a hit for years! It would be the highest honor!” His tone is now distinctly more feminine. “My team and I have and are managing some of America’s  _ top _ artists nowadays and we’ve been wanting to work with you for the longest time! You’ll have absolutely no trouble getting one of us to work for you. We are almost always open to discussion of contracts regarding band needs and whatnot. We make it all easy to understand.”

“I’m free Tuesday next week in order to talk about everything.” 

“Not a problem at all, dear. Just tell me when and where to meet you.” 

You give him the address of A.J.’s and tell him that you’ll meet around six. “Is that alright with you?” 

“Perfect. I’ll see you there with one of my best.” 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“Bye.” 

“Bye, darling.”

*** 

“Great job. Those of you who are behind, I’ll need to speak to you all about getting up to your goals during our free form workout this Thursday. That’s all. Class dismissed.” 

Eddie finds himself to be intimidated by the man before him, who is twice as broad in his shoulders and slightly taller than the journalist. Of course, he has no reason to be; he’s been reassured that the man is a teddy bear in personality. At the same time, he looks like he might be able to crush Eddie if Eddie didn’t have the symbiote bonded to him. 

“Excuse me, are you Max Castillo?” 

Despite the group milling about and being extraordinarily noisy, the man with long, jet black hair tied back who had been hosting the class faced the journalist. “I am. Do you need something?” 

His eyes are a soft green and his smile is sweet. True, genuine joy seems to radiate from the man in a very disarming way. Eddie finds himself relaxing from his previous anxiety. 

“I was wondering if you could tell me where a woman named Tabitha Jade lives?” 

That joyous demeanor quickly deflates; Max’s shoulders square up and his expression changes to a neutral one. It’s a poker face - a façade - that Eddie can see through. “I can. I want to know why, first.” 

Eddie becomes defensive. “I don’t need to explain myself.” 

“I think you do,” Max replies. “Because I was going to pay her a visit myself for what she’s done to my friends.” 

Prickling underneath Eddie’s skin was Venom, excited about someone sharing his anger other than his host.  **“We want to do the same.”**

Venom’s voice surprises Max, but he doesn’t seem otherwise affected. In fact, a dark smile takes up his expression as realization dawns.

The journalist clears his throat. “So, I think the two of us are in agreement that this meeting isn’t going to be a nice one.” 

The bodybuilder smirks knowingly, his arms crossing over his broad chest. “And you’d be right, my friend. However, she’s not exactly  _ home _ .” 

“Why?” 

“She’s a suspect of attempted murder and is being held in a psych ward for suicidal tendencies,” Max replies. “Trying to pull an insanity plea on the entire situation, which she might succeed in.” 

Max sees the flash of white over Eddie’s eyes. “Easy, tiger.” He attempts to calm the two. “They’ll say she’s under the influence, put her in rehab, and not keep track of her when she relapses, just like last time.” 

Eddie’s eyes flash again. There’s a moment of silence between the three before someone finally speaks up.  **“You have a plan.”** Venom states. 

“That’s right. And I’ll need both of you to participate in this one.” 

 

Fresh bandages cover the woman’s arms and legs, preventing her nails from digging into her skin anymore. The brunette rocks back and forth on her cot, her similarly colored eyes staring at nothing on the wall. Her hands are cuffed and she tries to itch at the cotton around her arms. She’s crying, her sobs almost silent in the quiet cell. 

It’s past lights out and the only guards around are patrolling upstairs. At least, they  _ should  _ be. This round is meant to be up there. However, she hears footsteps approaching and quickly lays down, stifling her already quiet cries. Her eyes dart around her cell as a light flashes into her cell. 

The light clicks off. 

It takes a moment, but instead of the footsteps she was supposed to hear, but it’s a disgusting squelching sound. The door rattles as the noise happens. 

Tabitha quickly sits up, her eyes glued to the cell door and the creature before it. 

“Y-Y-Y-You’re-!” She gasps, backing as far into her corner as she can. Her eyes flit to the cell door, where a familiar bodybuilder stands, smirking with his arms crossed. “You!  _ Castillo _ !” 

“I don’t back out on my promises,  _ Jade _ .” The baritone voice of Max speaks. “You hurt my  _ friends _ , you  _ get _ hurt. Wasn’t I clear?” 

Venom meets her gaze, his predatory grin widening.  **“** **_She_ ** **doesn’t belong to** **_you_ ** **.”** He hisses, plucking the smaller figure off the bed by her throat **.** She attempts to cry out, flailing in his grip.  **“Since we met her, she’s been** **_ours_ ** **. And you hurt what belongs to us.”**

“W-Wh-What?”

“ **_(_ ** _ N _ **_a_ ** _ m _ **_e_ ** _ ) _ **_._ ** ” The three say in unison, voices merge in harmony. 

The symbiote smells the fear that radiates from her as the name rolls off their tongues. 

Before she can get another word out, he unhinges his serpentine jaw and decapitates the female with his sharp teeth. Blood sprays from her headless neck over the symbiote’s body, coating him in a glistening red. Max only watches, unbothered even when Venom swallows the woman’s head. 

“Alright. Let’s get outta here before the shift switches.” 

***

“Hey, stranger.” 

Eddie smiles at you as you wave goodbye to Elizabeth. “Just finished up?” 

“Yeah. You want a snack? I have some dinner left over if you want some.” 

**“Always.”** Like a sentient goo snake, a small black ball of Venom’s face materializes from Eddie’s left shoulder. He grins at you and you find yourself doing the same. 

“Well, get in here then.” You tease playfully, holding the door open for them. They duck inside, quickly making their way to the kitchen to raid it. “Don’t eat all of it, now. I don’t make  _ that _ much money.” 

You follow them into the kitchen. They’re already helping themselves to your leftover spaghetti. 

“So I was thinking about my hospital visit.” Wonderful start, genius. “You asked me during your visit about all of the band members and I figured that now’s a good time to tell you about them.” 

They plant themselves on your couch, a heaping bowl of leftovers in their hands. When you sit next to them, Venom’s tendrils reach out for your arm, wrapping himself around you. The chilly, silken body gently curls around your lower arm, wrist, and hand, holding you gently. When your fingers coil around him, he squeezes in response, content. 

To your surprise, you notice how easily your nerves are soothed by this feeling. Your words are confident as you say them. “Kris, who you met in the hallway at the hospital, is the band’s lead singer. We’ve been friends since high school, met in band class, blah, blah, blah. She actually has graduated college with bachelors in IT. She’s never answered me when I asked her why she rejected all of the people offering jobs to her for this band, though.” 

“She’s the one in the green?” 

“Yeah. We met Liz in high school, too. Kris knew her from Choir. She’s the one with the colored hair.” 

As you continue, Eddie listens intently, the symbiote purring underneath his skin.  **Soft. Fragile.** There’s a fond gleam in your eyes as you talk about your friends, a nostalgic smile on your face. The journalist notices Venom pull to closer inch by inch, but you don’t seem to notice. 

“I met Gabrielle during sophomore year. She’s a wonderful drummer, but was working on joining the police force. When we graduated, we all separated. She came back shortly after, saying that her applications were rejected because she’s deaf. She introduced us to Max when he walked her to Kris’ place for practice. His face lit up when he saw the guitar, which Kris was going to use. I can’t say he’s bad at it, because I’d be lying, but he’s busy a lot of the time. He already has two jobs to keep track of.” 

Oh, he knows Max. Probably a little better than you, now. 

“I’m glad the man can get any downtime. Let’s not mention that he’s the one to respond to going on tours the fastest. Alway ready to jump in whenever. …” 

You have absolutely no idea when, but while you were monologuing, Eddie had been lulled into an easy sleep. He lays on your shoulder now, snoring softly. Venom, on the other hand, is still very much active. He massages and caresses your hand with the amount of him that attached to you.

**“I enjoy your voice.”** The soft murmur barely snaps you from a tired trance you fell into. Small and shy looking, Venom’s face popped up from Eddie’s shoulder. His wicked teeth, normally a prominent feature, seem to be hidden.  **“Eddie likes when you play. We want to hear you sing for us.”**

A raging heat takes over your entire face, maybe even your neck, at the suggestion. “Ah, I don’t- I’ve never- I-“ Your hands start to sweat and you wipe your free one instinctively on your pants. “Singing’s never really been my thing.” 

**“Merely a question.”** Venom purrs, the small head nuzzling into your jaw. 

The man’s weight against you eventually forces you to lay your head on the armrest, a small throw pillow to help your neck. Now, they’re flush against you, Eddie’s arms at your sides while you play with his hair and trace your fingers down his neck to in between his shoulders. Venom rests his tiny head on your collarbone, ‘closing his eyes’ in a way. The pearlescent shapes of his eyes becoming a thin line on his face. 

**“Careful and warm.”** Venom mumbles, settling on your clavicle.  **“Safe.”**

These words warm you from the inside out. Something tells you that feeling ‘safe’ isn’t something either of them have really felt, considering that Venom is one of the most wanted characters in the city. It dawns on you that you  _ could _ turn them in if you so choose. It comes with a  _ big _ however, though, because you’re finding that you enjoy both of their company. 

Sticking with Eddie means sticking with Venom. It’s going to be dangerous; you’re technically aiding a fugitive, after all. But, if you’re treated the way they’ve treated you in just this past week, it’s more than worth it. You keep them hidden, and you get to hold onto Eddie and Venom as they sleep. 

Fair enough. 

*** 

Eddie shifts in your lap. The constant weight that accompanied you on the couch is carefully removed as he stands, sighing and stretching. Venom tightens around your arm, which hadn’t been released all night. 

You’ve fallen back into sleep before anything’s said or done. 

  
  


It feels like only seconds pass before you’ve woken up in a cold sweat, shaking and gasping for air. Flashes of the nightmare remind you what it was about; your ex-girlfriend. 

An unnaturally large figure almost entirely envelops you in an embrace from behind. The inky black arms are an immediate comfort and your own arms - slightly trapped by his - wrap around them as best they can. 

**“Eddie says you are panicking.”** Venom rumbles, his voice traveling through your body.  **“He says you have to breathe slower.”**

Quick and shaky, the air escapes you. Your entire chest hurts and an occasional pain shoots through every other part of you. Eyes sting with hot tears, overwhelmed with fear. 

A panic attack. 

The pressure from the embrace is grounding you. Concentrating on it, it pulls you back into some sort of reality. Senses are returning, coming down from the fear. Venom’s breathing is audible enough; you force yourself to breathe in sync. 

It takes what feels like hours to finally ground yourself. The overwhelming pain and fear dispel for the most part. As you pull yourself together, you lean back against the symbiote. 

**“You are… alright?”**

You hum softly in reply, unsure if it was positive or negative. From your position, you can feel Venom’s/Eddie’s heart. It’s slightly slower and  _ much _ stronger than others you’ve heard. Softer, you can hear what might’ve been an echo, except it’s much faster than the main. 

**“Rest, morsel. We will be here.”**

 

Eddie’s mortified when he sees that he’s fallen asleep on you. Slowly, carefully, he lifts himself off of you and stands, stretching. However, it’s when he goes to move that Venom growls in their shared mind, possessive of the one he’s deemed to ‘belong’ to them. 

“What?” 

**Can’t leave her. She’ll get cold.**

“You want to take her to bed?” 

**Yes** . 

You’re lifted into their arms, Venom curling around your middle to keep you up.  **She is light. Not as heavy as other girls.** They carry you as carefully as they can down the hall to your room. 

They place you as gingerly as possible down on your bed, underneath your covers. You roll onto your side and snuggle in, content. 

_ Wow, that’s a lot of posters. _

AC/DC, Disturbed, Evanescence, Guns and Roses, Imagine Dragons, Lindsey Stirling, Linkin Park, Metallica, and Skillet. In that order, from left to right, on the wall to their right. First three on the top, second three on the middle, and the last on the bottom. 

_ The inspiration for her music, maybe? Or just artists she likes? _

A yawn and stretch follow this internal inquiry. His first thought is to jump into the bed with you, but he immediately squashes that idea. 

**She won’t mind.** Venom urges. 

“No!” 

The word is louder than he intends. A glance toward you says that you're undisturbed, so he quickly makes his way from your room to the couch in your living room. 

 

Venom keeps quiet as Eddie falls asleep on the couch. It takes a while, maybe an hour, for the journalist's breathing to slow. As soon as he's sure that the man has passed out, he takes over the body and makes his way back toward your room.

As soon he gets your door open, you jolt into a sitting position with a scream. Your hands clutch at your throat; with the fading bruises, he immediately thinks that you're in pain. Unfortunately, the sound frightens Eddie. 

Venom quickly moves behind your form which is shaking, crying, and breathing too fast. His arms wrap carefully around you, over your shoulders. It takes your hands away from your throat deciding to cling to him, instead. 

Eddie, slowly coming back to his senses, recognizes that it's a panic attack.  _ ’Vee, she's panicking. She's scared. We have to calm her down. Force her to breathe in time with you, slowly.’ _

**“Eddie says you are panicking. He says you have to breathe slower.”**

As Eddie tells him, he exaggerates his own breaths. His arms over your chest, he feels you attempt to listen to the instructions. You breathe in shakily, the air forced out with every hiccup. Your fingers dig into his skin and he hears Eddie comment on how you'd give him bruises if he was handling this. 

Weirdly, Venom kind of likes the thought that you could. 

Eddie counts the time for each of your breaths as they line up with Venoms’. It takes five minutes for you to calm down, an exhausted sigh leaving you as you lean against them. 

They rest their head on your shoulder, looking you over for any sign of hurt or pain.  **“You are… alright?”**

The hum they get in response sounds more like you questioning if being ’okay’ even exists. Venom holds you tighter, careful of your fragile human body. 

_ ’She needs to rest. We should stay here just to make sure she's okay.’ _

**“Rest, morsel. We will be here.”**

Your hands fall away from their arms, lulled back into an uneasy sleep. Venom adjusts so that you're sleeping on their chest even as he moves to lay on the bed with you. Said bed creaks in protest as his larger form settles down into it. 

Just like the two(three?) of you were on the couch with the positions reversed, you lay on them with your legs tucked between theirs, your head on their chest, and arms on either side of them. Eddie puts himself back to sleep by listening to your breathing, silencing the room. Venom rests one arm under his head and the other hand in your back to keep you comforted. 

Slowly, surely, the symbiote also sleeps.


End file.
